Yogi Berra

"It ain't over till it's over."

"You guys are trying to stop Musial in 15 minutes while the National League ain’t stopped him in 15 years."

"From the kids on the neighborhood Stag Athletic Club baseball team on the Hill. We went to a movie one afternoon, and there was one of those yogi characters in the picture. Coming out of the joint, one of the kids looked at me, started laughing, and said: "Hey, Berra walks just like that yogi in the movie." I've been Yogi ever since."

"What's wrong with readin' comic books? I don't understand this kiddin' about readin' comic books. When I get through with 'em the other players on our club borrow them from me. Nobody makes a fuss about that."

"I always know how Hutch did when we follow Detroit into a town. If we got stools in the dressing room, I know he won. If we got kindling, he lost."

"Rock Hudson, I suppose."

"Before the playoff game in a World Series with the Dodgers in Brooklyn, Casey Stengel said in the clubhouse, "Well, this is it. Now who do you want to pitch?" The 40 guys in the clubhouse shouted "Raschi!" so loud the Dodgers must have heard it across the way. That's what we Yankees thought of Raschi. What did Raschi have? He had a slider and a curve that wasn't too good, but what made him so rough was a fast ball that got them out. Funny thing about him was that he couldn't relieve as good as Toots Shor. The guy was built to finish what he started."

"Lopat was the cutest of the gang, the easiest to catch because he had almost perfect control of every pitch at different speeds. He made batters impatient. They couldn't wait for what looked so easy to hit and they'd swing at his motion."

"But it don't bother me. I never yet saw anybody hit the baseball with their face. Besides, I like to get kidded; that means they like me. When they stop kidding me, I'm in trouble."

"My ambition is to hit .400 and talk 1.000."

"I gotta shake hands with himǃ That's one guy I know I'm better lookin' than."

"I dunno. This game is getting funnier and funnier. We do everything but punch 'em in the nose and here we are all tied up in the Series. We flatten 'em by scores of 16-3, 10-0 and 12-0 and we still need one more to win. How do you figure that? Don't write this, but even if they beat us tomorrow, we're the better club."

"Sometimes I think there must be two Yogi Berras. There is the one who grew up on the Hill in St, Louis, who's been playing ball for the Yankees for fourteen years, has a beautiful wife named Carmen and three boys, Larry, Timmy, and Dale, and lives in a nice house in Montclair, N. J. That's me. Then there's the one you read about in the papers who is a kind of a comic-strip character, like Li'l Abner or Joe Palooka. [...] I don't know that Yogi at all, because he doesn't exist."

"People seem to find it hard to believe, but I'm a very serious person. It wasn't luck that I became a ballplayer. I never wanted to be anything else and I never considered anything else and I worked my tail off for it. To say that I don't have any worries or nerves is the opposite of the truth. I worry about not being able to get around on the fast ball any more, I worry about getting hurt and having to quit playing before my time. I worry about the bowling alley I own with Phil Rizzuto making money. I worry about keeping Carm happy so she won't be sorry she married me, about the kids growing up good, and about keeping out of trouble with God. I worry a lot. I'm nobody's mascot, either. Sure, I like to get along with people and I hope I've made friends, but that's different."

"Look, I was surprised when they offered me the job and I knew they weren't fooling, but this is not a joke. It will have to be fun for me to want to keep it, but I am not a joke."

"For a while, he was far better than the team around him, and he could give me fits."

"It's unbelievable that Phil had to wait so long to get in to the Hall of Fame. Maris's home run record in 1961 has become something of a curse. He wasn't just a home run hitter, he could do everything—hit in the clutch, field, throw and run."

"Dickey's teaching me all of his experience."

"I knew the record would stand until it was broken."

"I looked like this when I was young, and I still do."

"I really didn't say everything I said. [...] Then again, I might have said 'em, but you never know."

"If the world were perfect, it wouldn't be."

"If you ask me a question I don't know, I'm not going to answer."

"If you can't imitate him, don't copy him."

"If you don't know where you're going, you might not get there."

"It gets late early out there."

"Little things are big."

"Pair up in threes."

"Thank you for making this day necessary."

"We made too many of the wrong mistakes."

"You can observe a lot by watching."

"[What time is it?] You mean now?"

"If people don't want to come to the ballpark how are you going to stop them?"

"It's déjà vu all over again."

"Ninety percent of this game is half-mental."

"Always go to other people's funerals; otherwise they won't go to yours."

"In theory there is no difference between theory and practice; in practice there is."

"Never answer an anonymous letter."

"The future ain't what it used to be."

"It's tough to make predictions, especially about the future"

"Nobody goes there anymore. It's too crowded."

"When you come to a fork in the road, take it."

"Our similarities are different."

"Sure, his control wasn't perfect, but he didn't make all the mistakes he seemed to make. Berra hit that first home run off his chin. It was two strikes and Newk was just wasting one. I guess you have to hit Yogi to keep him from hitting you. You can't throw it bad enough by him. [...] Man, that Berra is a killer. All Newcombe has to do is get a third strike past him and he's probably pitching yet. Mantle? You saw how big Newk threw those strikes past him. Struck him out twice, didn't he?"

"A remark once attributed to Sam Goldwyn will be attributed to Yogi Berra."

"Well, we heard he was a high-ball hitter. All that means is his strength is a little stronger on high pitches than on low. We knew there wasn't much we could do."

"The Bombers set a home run record and Yogi Berra, a vest-pocket immortal for the future, flailed past Lou Gehrig, a large, economy-size immortal from the past, in the runs-batted-in department. Yogi was the batting hero with the top average of .360 and that has to tickle everybody who knows him because Yogi is a delightful little guy. His ailing mother asked him to hit a couple of homers for her. "I'll try, Mom," said Yogi. He made no rash promises. He merely said he'd do his best and his best was good enough. He's such a sweet fellow that he couldn't even rub it into Don Newcombe when big Newk went to bat after Yogi had clouted his second homer of the finale. "I hit a pretty good pitch, Newk," said Yogi as he crouched behind the plate. Berra was trying to soften the pain. "Yes, you did," agreed Newk glumly."

"Most of the Yankee attack this season came right from Mickey Mantle and Yogi Berra. And right there, I think, is the center of this whole debate. You take Mantle, and if Ol' Diz is back a few years he gives him the high fast one on the inside and he strikes out. Oh, he hits the ball a mile during the season—but in a seven-game World Series those strikeouts hurt and that's what I figure that guy will do a lot, especially seeing that he's injured. This leaves the Yankees with Berra, which ain't bad. He is the most dangerous hitter in the American League. A tough game is his particular kind of bear meat. He chews along easy-like, then hits any pitch in the book out of sight."

"Yogi Berra is easily the best and most valuable catcher in baseball today. I know he has already broken a lot of my records, and Yogi's only started. He has been a great kid to work with. First of all, he started with fine natural ability. He has a strong throwing arm and a keen batting eye. And about the nicest disposition that anyone ever knew. No young ballplayer has ever taken the heavy and savage riding that Yogi had to take. But no one ever got his goat. There were ballplayers on the Tigers and other clubs riding Yogi who couldn't tie his shoes. Berra just grinned—and went on driving across winning runs. Far from being dumb, Yogi always has his eyes open and he learns quickly. His reflexes are very good—which means that mind and muscle work together."

"Yogi is the most relaxed hitter I ever saw or faced. What a guy! In spite of all the great things he's accomplished over the years he's lost none of his humility and none of his niceness. He's truly one of nature's noblemen."

"I remember a game I was broadcasting. Yogi was in left and Mickey Mantle was in center. Yogi whistled to Mantle and started moving him around. After the game I asked Yogi why he was giving advice to Mantle, a great center fielder for so many years. You know what he told me? "Joey, Mickey didn't know that the guy hits there with two strikes." Yogi knows baseball. There's no doubt about that."

"Fans have labeled Yogi Berra "Mr. Malaprop," but I don't think that's accurate. He doesn't use the wrong words. He just puts words together in ways nobody else would ever do."

"They made up amusing stories about Berra. He read comic books. It seemed incongruous to see him catching the college-bred Raschi and Reynolds and the chubby little man of the world, Lopat. But they were perfectly content to let the squatty kid from The Hill in St. Louis call the shots. The pitcher has yet to come along who didn't want to throw to Berra. A ballplayer doesn't have to have higher education when he has baseball instinct, and Berra was richly endowed with that. Yogi Berra is a rich man materially now, but there is no more swagger in him than there was when he first showed up, a humble lad not quite sure where he belonged and asking nothing more than the chance. Now, at least, you know he belonged."

"Yogi had the fastest bat I ever saw. he could hit a ball late that was already past him, and take it out of the park. The pitchers were afraid of him because he'd hit anything, so they didn't know what to throw. Yogi had them psyched out and he wasn't even trying to psyche them out."

"If the truth must be told, I'd never even heard of Berra, but I figured that if he was worth fifty grand to Ottie he must be worth fifty grand to me. That's why I turned him down. But one day I'm in my office and the girl comes in to announce that Mr. Berra is outside to see me. "Berra?" I say to myself. "That must be the kid Ottie was trying to buy." So I tell her to show him in. So I waited for my first look at the prize package which was worth $50,000. The instant I saw him my heart sank and I wondered why I had been so foolish as to refuse to sell him. In bustled a stocky little guy in a sailor suit. He had no neck and his muscles were virtually busting the buttons off his uniform. He was one of the most unprepossessing fellows I ever set eyes on in my life. And the sailor suit accentuated every defect. Since then, though, I've never regretted the move."

"Yogi Berra, christened Lawrence, is the Sam Goldwyn of the baseball industry. The late Goldwyn, a highly successful movie executive, was famous for his quaint and curious aberrations in talking: "Gentlemen, include me out." "I can answer that in two words: im-possible!" "Anyone who goes to a psychiatrist should have his head examined." These lapses, known as Goldwynisms, were mainly the creations of the Goldwyn press department. And so it is with Berra — a public relations man, Jackie Farrell, of the New York Yankees, contrived most of the quips and gaffes attributed to the illustrious catcher-turned-manager."

"He ain't much to look at and he looks like he's doing everything wrong, but he can hit. He got two hits off us on wild pitches."

"He hit it off the ground. And in the eighth, off the same pitch—a low, inside fast ball—he hits inside third. Three hits and he didn't hit a good pitch all day. How the hell do you pitch a guy like that?"

"After the seventh inning, when runs count the most, he's the most dangerous hitter who ever lived."

"He's smart, all right. There's no one in baseball smarter than Yogi."

"Poor Yogi. Everybody's picking on him. Whenever he gets a hit and you ask him if it was high or low, he just mumbles: "I dunno. It was a good one.""

"People think Mickey Mantle is the toughest hitter in the league, but I can usually get him out if I don't make a mistake. The real toughest clutch hitter is Berra. As you change speeds and move around, Berra moves right with you. Rosen does the same thing, but fortunately he's playing third behind me so I don't have to pitch to him. Believe me, the two best clutch hitters in the game are Berra and Rosen. Most of us pitchers wish to hell they'd switch to golf."

"Yogi, and all the Yankees, for that matter. But I saw Clemente when I was coaching for the Mets. I believe he was the best I saw."